Red and Blue
by SyrenHug
Summary: We've all got something to prove, yeah? D/s themes. Total AU.


This was an idea I had like out of the blue. I wanted to write some D/s themes so I thought I'd try it out for size.

This is a total AU. I might write more if anyone wants me to.

Anyway, this one's for Thai Tea Addict. You made me want to get back to writing with your great reviews.

Pairings: Ryoma/Yukimura/Fuji. Kind of. Maybe eventually? All the other's are undecided.

Warnings: D/s. If you've got issues maybe you should chill?

* * *

_"I can't promise anything. Especially in this territory."_

* * *

The clanging of chains, click clacking of boots made him look up. Finally, the snowflakes seemed to be sticking. Ryoma was huddled into his jacket, eyes hid by his long bangs. When the boy saw him he sighed and paused a few feet away.

Fuji smirked around his cigarette. "A lovely night for a stroll, ne?"

"Is Tezuka in?"

He didn't like that. "Ryoma-chan should really learn to be polite to his superiors."

The boy's lips tightened, cracked with the cold. His cheeks were a delicious shade of red. At least half from anger, but he didn't say anything. Just stomped past him to the warehouse door. That was locked. Fuji took another pull.

"Let me in."

"What do I get for it?"

"My undying love." The boy said sarcastically, drenched with his characteristic attitude. He hummed. Considered.

"Tempting. But you've been naughty. I think you should get on your knees and beg me."

One of his favorite parts of interrogating was seeing the fear. They knew it was going to hurt, you knew it was going to hurt. But pain was meant to be savored. Humiliation meant to roast a little before the meal. It made his mouth fill with saliva. And, when the boy huffed, his eyes flashed open.

"Get on your knees."

It took Ryoma a few seconds to understand, but when he did, he was on the ground. Gaze aimed at the ground. Knees digging into the snow. Fuji could practically taste the contempt.

He folded his arm. "Beg."

"Please, Fuji-sama. I need to talk to Mitsu-" Ryoma winced. "I mean, Tezuka-sama."

He'd always told Tezuka he spoiled the boy. Letting the pet call the master anything but such was misplaced. Especially this pet. The cigarette between his fingers was flickering out. He smiled. "Hold out your wrist."

Shoulders stiffened, cheeks paled. "Wait, no. You can't."

The nerve. The absolute nerve. "Don't make me tell you twice."

Ryoma's wrist was almost disgustingly fragile. He wondered how the boy would feel if he bit at him instead. Probably disgusted. Though, from what he'd heard, pain was his pleasure. Fuji brushed his tip of his cigarette over the strands of veins like a kiss. The noise that poured of the boy was almost a sigh of a lover, a hiss from a kitten.

So he put mouth over a honey ear and murmured, "Be grateful, Ryoma-chan. Be very grateful. Because I know what your doing. And I might just tell."

The ash dissolved in to the snow and the boy groaned.

* * *

"Promise me, this'll end."

Atobe clasped his hands together on the desk. The figure in front of him was shaking, worry reaching from head to toe. He couldn't help staring at the black and red jacket and the family it told he was apart of. The guilt had to be eating him alive. He admired the strength.

"I can't promise anything. Especially in this territory."

* * *

The bed felt cold. Yukimura sat up, shaking the hair off his face and looked over. Gone.

His hand shook as he buttoned his shirt and zipped up his pants. The bed wasn't the only thing cold. He stared at the window, shuddering when a breeze blew through.

"I'm weak." and the wind seemed to agree.

Everyone was hung out (or more appropriately, hung _over_) when he made his way down stairs. Sanada was out doing business by now and Yanagi was probably over flowing with data somewhere. Jackal and Niou were playing a video game, munching on some chips. Oshitari was reading a book. He didn't want to even think about what Kirihara was getting up to. That kid was a pure demon.

Marui swung in from the kitchen, a ghost of knowing in his smile.

"He left an hour or so ago, boss. Barely looked our way when he left."

Which wasn't abnormal. His lover had issues with eye contact. "Have you guys been up all night?"

"You know us. From dusk till dawn. Just like you and your boy toy."

Someone coughed. He didn't even look to see who it was. Just smiled. That kind he donned right before he strangled someone. "Amusing as always, Bunta. Why don't you keep your commentary to yourself?"

The red head held up both his hands. "Just calling it like I see it."

"So am I the only one who thinks that the kid is totally playing you?" Niou asked. "I mean, no one betrays their family. Even for good sex."

Of course Yukimura knew what Ryoma was up to. As soon as he'd seen those eyes he'd figured it out. _Maybe I just really like you, senpai,_ Ryoma had teased, biting his lip in a way that had him relenting. But he'd never been dumb and he was always on guard.

For all intents and purposes, though, everyone around him was his family. Good sex aside. And he'd never let anyone hurt what was his.

"Call Sanada." He hid his shaking fingers in his jacket. Make your weakness your strength. "Let's do some damage tonight."

* * *

"You got something to prove?" The guy asked, green eyes gleaming. Horio placed him around the same age as him. But it didn't make him any less scary.

He'd been trained well as a child. Be invisible, be weak. Don't let anyone close because anything will be used against you. But he didn't want to be invisible or weak. He wanted to be important. And the man on the ground struggling against the rope wrapped around his body was just the chance to prove himself.

The guy stared at him. "Scared? Because I can do it."

"No." He rasped, but dropped the gun. It had been too heavy against his palm. The knife in his other felt good on his skin. "I'll do it."

When the guy smiled, canines sharp and white, he knew he'd made a deal with the devil.

* * *

Being one of the few girls in the territory was hard. She had to let them push her around without being a pushover. Learn her way around a shot gun and the way around lip stick. And the kids there, well, they jeered her about ever making it. But she was better then all of them. She wasn't going to become some stay-at-home whore like most of the women. None of them lasted long anyway.

But she was. She was going to conquer.

"I hear you're looking for a shooter." She said, confidence making her words sarcastic and hazel eyes pinned her to her spot.

"Depends. Are you one?"

* * *

Thanks for reading. :)


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